Hero
by Lyra Pendragon
Summary: One-shot. “Shut up! Do you want them to find us faster?” Hermione growled, turning to Harry–--who mumbled, "Don't worry," before falling....R


A/N: I should be doing homework right now....Easter homework. Get this–it's Language Arts. That's my best subject and I don't want to do my homework for it!! I would be my favorite subject too, except that my teacher is a real (please excuse the language) beeeeaaaatch. I don't think she likes me much. Oh well. I'll do my stupid compare/contrast essay and character analysis over Tybalt and my compare and contrast essay over the movie (not the one with Leonardo whatshisname) and the play of Romeo and Juliet later. Tomorrow. Preferably not Tuesday morning as usual when I have to go to school again. Anyway, while I wasn't doing my homework earlier today I came up with this. I was going to make it a multi chappie story, but I decided not to because that would mean I'd have to be working on The Time Turner, Everything and Nothing (I haven't posted that yet), and Beyond His Eyes all at the same time....I won't do it!!!  
  
HERO  
  
"Don't worry." Harry said.  
Don't worry. How could they not worry? Ron stared off into the dark hole that they'd just stepped out of. Echoes of sprinting feet traveled toward them.  
Death Eaters were coming. Coming their way. Coming for them. Coming to kill them.  
Ron had wanted to be Harry at one point. He had. Harry had everything. He had popularity. He had talent. He had money. The only thing that he didn't have was a family.  
That was the only thing that Ron didn't want.  
Because he had it.  
Why was it that you could want and want something, but when it came, you didn't want it anymore?  
Ron had wanted and wanted to know a shred of the life that Harry lived. He'd never gotten his wish. Never. He never would. He didn't want it anymore. Just seeing Harry, just talking to him from day to day, had changed his mind.  
Harry's life was–to be truthful–hell. Harry knew it. Hermione knew it. It had taken a while, but Ron knew it too.  
How could Harry do this? How could he fight for his life like this living on only adrenaline? Harry barely ate. He barely slept. He was unhealthy as it was. He looked like he was on the verge of death, and he wasn't even older than twenty.  
They were all breathing heavily. Ron could almost laugh with relief. Maybe for a minute they would be safe. One more minute...one more moment to live...  
Ron did laugh.  
He laughed out loud and jumped in the air–then keeled sideways as Hermione smacked him in the side.  
"What was that for??"  
"Shut up! Do you want them to find us faster?" Hermione growled, turning to Harry–  
–Who mumbled, "Don't worry," as he clutched his stomach and fell over.  
Ron, who was standing right next to him, caught him in his arms.  
Hermione screamed. If Ron had cared at the moment, he would have tried to tell her off.  
But he didn't.  
For some reason, Ron felt oddly calm. Harry's face was white. He hadn't been able to tell before, but Harry's robes were soaked with blood and were now shining slightly in the moonlight above them. Harry's forehead was covered with sweat. His body was limp in Ron's arms. But Ron was calm and quiet as he pulled Harry over to a wall in the courtyard.  
Hermione watched as Ron pulled Harry's arms out of his robes and his shirt over his head. He was used to Harry's skinny chest–how his ribs stuck out oddly and almost grotesquely–but Hermione took in a quick breath. Maybe it was at that, but more likely it was at the great bloody slash across his stomach and chest. It was wide and looked very deep, and it seemed to be congealing a purple substance along with large amounts of blood.  
"What is this?" Ron asked quietly.  
"I don't know."  
"You don't–what?"  
"Is he going to be okay?" Hermione's voice sounded unnaturally high. "Is he even--"  
"He's breathing." Ron said quietly, indicating his chest which was moving up and down slowly, "He's alive. We'll keep him alive, alright? Will you just....help me find out what this is?"  
Hermione slowly leaned down, staring at the gash. She moved her fingers to Harry's stomach and touched at the wound.  
Ron looked up. He could hear the footsteps growing louder. His heart jumped. He was no longer calm. His neutrality had dissipated in an instant, to leave nothing but a cold grueling fear.  
He stood up and stepped away from Hermione and Harry. He pulled out his wand, staring at the hole.  
And there they were. Death Eaters, all lined up, facing him, their wands out at the ready. Six of them.  
Six against two.  
"Hermione," He whispered, staring at them as they began toward him confidently, "Hermione...."  
She joined him a moment later, pulling her wand out slowly.  
There they stood, side by side.  
"Ron." She whispered as the Death Eaters neared.  
"Yes?" He looked down at her, and she was looking up at him.  
She hesitated, then, "I'm scared."  
"So am I." His stomach had plummeted, his eyes were bugging, his throat was clogged with a silent scream, his face was wet with sweat, his heart was pumping in terror. He was scared, too.  
Hermione's hand reached for his as the Death Eaters neared. She was holding his wand hand, which was trembling just like her hand was.  
All they had was each other.  
"I've never been without Harry before, Ron." She whispered.  
"Neither have I."  
Harry had always been there to fight for them. To fight with them.  
They both looked back at Harry simultaneously, glanced back at him, then both moved forward toward the Death Eaters with looks on their faces that could have matched Harry's own determined look.  
Harry lay motionless but for his chest, breathing heavily.  
He did not awaken  
  
until the last Death Eater stood standing.  
Ron caught the man in the chest, stunning him.  
The man fell over, to join his four companions.  
Ron then noticed that his arm was bleeding, but that was okay. He looked over at Hermione, who smiled at him. They both looked at Harry, who smiled at them both while a line of blood went down his chin.  
Ron and Hermione went to Harry and sat on either side of him.  
"Oh God..." Hermione said, noticing the blood on Harry's chin first.  
"We have to get help--"  
"Anyone would help, right?"  
"I don't know--"  
Harry laughed quietly. He was still smiling. Each bubble of laughter brought a small spurt of blood up that was leaking down onto his neck and collar bone. "Don't." He croaked as more blood came forth from his mouth. "Don't go. It's no use..."  
"What??"  
"Harry! You're not going to d--"  
"Yes I am."  
They were silent. Ron slipped his hand into his Harry's own and Hermione did the same. Hermione's face was covered with tears.  
Harry coughed and splatters of blood covered his chest. He didn't care.  
"I have to tell you something." He wasn't looking at either of them. He was looking at the sky. He coughed again.  
"The Prophecy....I heard it....it said that-that I'm--" He coughed and his body rocked, "that I might be able to kill Voldemort....for good. It said that one of us...has to die...in the end...I guess–guess it was me-- "  
"What?" Ron whispered. Harry's fingers were trembling.  
"Voldemort did this, Ron. He killed me.....I'm going to–to die--"  
"No you aren't, Harry!" Hermione shrieked, "We'll get some help, we will and--"  
Harry smiled and at the same time Hermione yelled, wrenching her hand from his grip. Harry's hand went limp and he coughed, spilling more blood onto himself. The wound on his stomach also gushed more blood and that strange purple stuff.  
"What?" Ron asked, frightened, over the sound of Harry's coughs.  
"My hand...." Hermione trailed off and took hold of Harry's hand again–  
–Harry's coughing stopped. The blood flow slowed. Ron was puzzled.  
"But...but how..how did you–?"  
"Tell him to look at you, Ron–just do it."  
"Okay," Ron said, "Harry. Harry look at me."  
Harry's head moved and he looked at Ron. It took a moment for his glazing eyes to focus, but when he did, Ron felt it. It felt like something like energy, only more powerful, were traveling through his hand, into Harry's–and it hurt. He yelled and wrenched his hand away just the same. Harry coughed and blood came out of it again.  
Tears spilled out of Hermione's eyes.  
"Take his hand again, Ron..please..."  
Ron took Harry's hand again, "What happened?"  
"Just one more test, Ron. You have to be willing to do that again. Trust me, it will help Harry. Talk to him again."  
"Harry....Harry..." Harry's eyes focused on him again. This time he felt the sensation of energy being siphoned through him, only it didn't hurt nearly as bad. It only felt like a slight tingle in his fingers.  
"What happened?" Hermione asked him.  
"It happened again, only it didn't hurt."  
Hermione smiled through her tears. "He's taking energy from us, Ron. He's healing himself. Dumbledore's been teaching him for a long time. He must've taught Harry that too" Ron saw Harry's mouth twitch into a slight smile. He could still hear them, "....Harry. Harry look at me, please...."  
Harry focused back on her. His eyes looked rather dull, even by night standards. But he wasn't coughing anymore. He was very quiet.  
"Harry, take energy from both of us. We're willing."  
Harry looked like he was about to cough again, but instead he croaked, "Thanks." and he closed his eyes. Ron felt the energy flowing from him a bit faster now, but it was no longer painful.  
"I'm finally paying you back, Harry." Ron said quietly. Harry smiled, but didn't open his eyes.  
They curled into a ball around Harry while he slowly cured himself....Ron watched Hermione cover Harry with his already blood-stained robes then curl up around Harry as Ron was already doing....  
"I'm finally paying...you...back....Potter....." 


End file.
